


Things Fall Apart

by daughteroflilith



Series: Through a Glass Darkly [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal, Blackmail, Dystopia, F/F, Fisting, Interrogation, Rape, Strip Search, Totalitarian State
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-01-15 04:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18491392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughteroflilith/pseuds/daughteroflilith
Summary: A secret police interrogator has her way with a captured protestor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Story contains the graphic rape of a protestor by a secret police officer
> 
> General Disclaimer: This is meant purely as a work of dark erotica. In the real world rape is a horrible crime and sex should always involve enthusiastic and affirmative consent.

If experience teachings us anything, it is that everything can change in the blink of an eye. The blue fever epidemic brought the world to its knees. It took countless lives, devastated city centers, and utterly halted all trade and travel. It burned bright and terrible and then it burned out just as the cure was discovered.

The government that rose from the ashes of my nation during the recovery was nothing like the one that had been before. It takes lifetimes to build healthy democracies but seldom more than a few fires and a bit of fear to destroy them.

I didn’t watch silently, nor did many others. I took to the streets, protest sign in hand the first time they canceled the elections. Things kept getting worse, and they took more and more rights and I kept going, even after the gatherings became illegal and people who were arrested started to disappear.

The mandatory fertility exams were a step too far. Their announcement led to the biggest protest I had ever seen. I went with my sister and two friends but I lost sight of all of them when the tear gas was released. I stumbled out of the crowd gasping only to be grabbed by a soldier, cuffed and shoved into a waiting van.

I was still dazed and coughing when I was dragged from the van into some building that looked more like a warehouse than a police station. I was afraid, so very afraid, and so was everyone with me. It seemed to me that that this was the kind of place that people tended to be shot. The floor beneath us was concrete, it would be so easy to wash away the blood.

I was there for hours before two soldiers came and took me to a small room. There was little more in it than a light, two chairs and a heavy table. They shackled my hands to a chain set in a heavy metal loop on the table, as if they thought I was dangerous. What they feared from a petite academic, I could only guess. They left me alone for nearly another hour. At least I could pull my hands back enough to almost put them in my lap as I sat.

Apparently they intended to interrogate me. I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t even been involved in planning the protest. Maybe they just needed to force some kind of confession out of me?

I had almost begun to doze by the time the door banged open. I was somewhat surprised to see that my interrogator was a woman. She was tall with lean muscles and moved with a dangerous air of authority. Her dark uniform seemed almost a parody of what the normal police of my city had once worn. The cut of her uniform had become more military looking, the shoes considerably more jackboot like. Even her light blond hair was carefully cut, as might benefit an officer, short but not so short that it didn’t curl just a bit about her ears.

Had I not so feared her, I might have been struck by just how attractive her face was. Although her expression was austere and her green eyes dangerous, she still had the high cheekbones and strong jawline I liked in a woman. She was perhaps half a decade older than myself, the faintest hint of future lines showing at her mouth and eyes when she frowned.

She gave me a very thoughtful once over before she sat across from me, setting down a tablet in a heavy shatter proof case.

“Sarah Harper?” she wasn’t really asking a question.

“That is my name.” I knew the next words I spoke were unwise but I said them anyway. “And who are you?”

She answered without even looking up from the tablet “Sergeant Cooper.” Then read quietly, the only sound in the room her tapping at the glass screen. “You’re a professor.”

“Assistant professor,” I said not really knowing why it mattered. “I’ve not finished my PHD.”

“In political science, honestly, I would think if you studied that you’d be smart enough to stay out of todays mess.”

“Seemed all the more reason to.”

She did look up then, briefly, one blond eyebrow raised. “You can’t have thought you’d end up anything other than arrested.”

“Some things are worth fighting for.”

“Yes, rule of law, which is certainly not protected by large unlawful and highly dangerous public gatherings.”

Words rose to my lips and then I bit them back down. I wasn’t sure what was going on and I didn’t want to anger her or incriminate myself.

She tapped at the screen a bit more. “Gay too.”

I flushed and looked down at my bound hands. “It actually says that?”

“You married and divorced a woman two years ago, so you’re either gay or bisexual.”

“I don’t see how that matters.”

“You were supposed to list that information the last time you applied for an ID card, you left that section blank.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little hesitant to officially list myself as part of a group that is usually the first to go when totalitarians take power.

The hint of a cruel smile tugged at the edge of her lip. “My, my your a bit of a spitfire, aren’t you.”

I shut my mouth.

That smile grew a little bit, she rested an an elbow on the table. “So why’d you divorce her.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Why’d you divorce your ex-wife. It says it was an uncontested divorce but you filed paperwork first.”

I chose my next words very carefully. “Irreconcilable differences.”

That just got me a slight head tilt. “She cheat on your or you cheat on her?”

“The hell does that matter?”

She shrugged, “It doesn’t, I was just curious.”

I had seldom hated a woman as much as I hated her in that instant. I bit my lip to keep from cursing her.

She just smirked and went back to tapping the tablet. “You haven’t gone in for your fertility evaluation either.”

Anger coiled inside of me. “I don’t see why I should have to. The government has no right to ask me to.”

“They do actually. Any woman of childbearing age who didn’t have blue fever has to go.”

“Have you?”

She actually did look away then. “No, I had the fever.”

I saw no sign of healed lesions on her face or hands. She must have had a fairly minor case or caught it near the end of the epidemic after they came up with the antiviral.

Just as quickly she was looking at the screen again. “This is your third arrest, although the first at a protest of this size. How many others have you attended?”

“Enough.”

“Right, well I’ve verified sufficient information to mark you as non compliant and potentially rebellious. Unless you convince me to the contrary, you’ll be sent to a re-education camp.”

My blood froze in my veins. If there are two words someone who has spent a great deal of their career studying political history doesn’t want to hear, it is camp and re-education. I had no idea if I should beg or remain silent. I doubted either would change things.

She stood, setting the tablet on her chair. “Nothing to say for yourself? It doesn’t matter. I just need to check you for contraband or anything incriminating on your person and then I can send you along. Stand up.”

She circled around me as I stood shakily.

The search started out professional enough, a quick skirting of her fingers over my body. She checked my jeans pockets and found nothing more than a few dollars and my ID card. In the world before the fever outbreak I would have never carried any form of identification at a protest, but under the new government being caught without one carried such harsh penalties I hadn't dared risk going without it.

She set those things on the table in front of me. I knew things were going badly when she slipped her hand beneath my shirt. At first her fingers just skirted the edge of my bra and then slipped beneath it. I jumped when she pinched a nipple.

“No.”

“Not what?” she laughed softly.

“Please, just no.” I knew what was coming.

“Lean over the table.”

“What?”

She withdrew her hands to place one on back of my neck and the other between my shoulder blades, “Don’t make me force you down.”

Not wanting to get my nose broken, I obeyed. The chains that held my cuffs to the central ring clanked loudly as I stretched out my arms above my head and lay over the table.

She reached around me to undo the buckle of my jeans and pull them down.

I started to struggle then but it was too late. She kept me in place with a firm hand on my shoulder blades. “Easy, I’m just checking you for anything hidden.”

“There is nothing inside of me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

She tugged off my shoes and pants completely before she proceeded. At least she bothered with the pretense of gloves. I heard the snap of the latex and then the click of a small bottle of some sort. I jolted when I felt cool lube slicked fingers against my entrance.

“Please don’t do this?”

She took her time, slowly tracing two fingers around my outer labia. “Search you? It’s my job.” She bought her fingers higher, finding my clit and rubbing in quick rough circles.

I jolted, unable to suppress a gasp.

The bitch chuckled. “You are the one who seems to be getting off on this.”

“If you have to search me then just do it, don’t touch me there.” I tried to pull away but I had nowhere to go and her fingers kept brushing at just the right part of me. When I tried to close my legs she just kicked them back open.

She leaned down, nearly whispering in my ear. “Why? Does it feel good little rebel?”

I fought for clarity, my own breath growing ragged. “Just get it over with.”

“You really ought to ask a bit nicer if you want my fingers inside of you.” She pressed harder and harder on my clit with each circle of her fingers, moving well past to the point of pleasure to overstimulation.

She had me wretchedly on edge and she knew, could probably tell from the ragged sound of my breath and the movement of my body.

“Go to hell you bitch,” I hissed.

“You want it that badly huh?” She was not gentle when she shoved her fingers into me.

I cried out, slumping against the table, nearly clawing at it when she added a third and began to fuck me in earnest.

“Good girl, go on and take it.”

I really didn’t have much choice. I had never felt so violated or overwhelmed in my life. My traitorous body was responding to her, practically clenching around her, as she slammed her fingers into me. I could feel my body starting to tense, an orgasm coiling inside of me.

“You little rebels are all the same. All words and talk and courage but you fall apart like a little slut the moment a woman with shiny boots touches you.”

“Fuck you!” I spat. In that moment my orgasm finally took me, crashing over me whether I wanted it too or not. I shuddered and clenched and came on her fingers, biting my own tongue to silence the cry that rose up in my throat.

She fucked me through the aftershocks before tugging her fingers from me. “You get to do that next but I’m not done with you yet.”

I heard her click open the bottle again and half wondered why since I was still wet. Her reasoning became clear quickly enough.

“Relax and this will go easier on you. There is still a part of you I haven’t searched.” She briefly circled my anus before pressing a single finger into me.

I whimpered and tried not to move. She pressed down on my shoulders with her free hand again.

“Never been fucked in the ass before?”

I closed my eyes and said nothing. I had but never like this.

The feeling of stretching was less than pleasant when she added a second finger. She didn’t wait long before she started to fuck me again. This time it hurt enough that my body wasn’t exactly reacting with pleasure. It was all I could do to force my internal muscles to relax so that she wouldn’t hurt me. That seemed to displease her.

“Surely a slut like you can get off, even from this.”

“Pain doesn’t get me off,” I don’t know how I still had the strength to speak but I found it.

She moved the hand she’d been using to push me down a bit lower on my body. She traced it up my inner thigh. “Really, because right now you’re so wet you’re dripping.”

“That doesn’t mean I want this.”

“Seems like it to me,” she brought the fingers of her left hand around my body to begin to rub at my clit again.

To my shame I reacted, my breath growing ragged. It was all I could do not to moan, not to press against her fingers. Somewhere between the two sensations a second release coiled inside of me and sprung just as quickly. This time I wasn’t able to remain silent. When my trembling ceased, I could feel the wetness of tears at the edge of my eyes.

She pulled away and I heard her stripping of the gloves, chucking them in a trash bin at the edge of the room I had not noticed before. She drew a key from somewhere and freed my cuffs from the link of chains on the table. I instantly slumped to the floor feeling utterly exhausted.

“Don’t close your eyes,” she said as she sat down in the chair that had been mine. “You’re not done.”

I looked up at her warily. I knew what she expected, I just didn’t know what would happen if I refused. Would she hurt me more? She hadn’t struck me yet.

She reached forward and cupped my chin in her palm, almost gently. “Don’t spoil things for yourself now, you’ve been such a good girl. Do this for me and I’ll change your file to list you as only potentially non-compliant. You’ll be allowed to go home.”

Hope and fear and humiliation all warred inside of me. I wanted to curse her. To tell her to go to hell. I was just so afraid though. There are moments in every woman’s life where she draws lines in the sand, when she decides who she is and what she stands for.

History if full of brave men and women who said no and were shot and their names and courage forgotten. The truth is that history is not so much written by the victors as simply the survivors. In that moment I decided to survive, to be one of the women who lived to tell future generations what happened, no matter what it cost me.

I met her gaze, and for a moment I think the cold fury in my eyes actually surprised her.  “If that is the price of my freedom then I will pay it.”

For all the courage of my words, my hands still shook as I reached forward to undo her belt and zipper. She helped me tug her pants down just far enough that she could spread her legs and I could bring my mouth to her center.

She tangled her hands in my half loosened braid as I set to work. At least I didn’t have to look at her. With my eyes closed I could have been going down on any woman. I’d been promiciouse enough after my divorce that I’d certainly grown accustomed to fucking unfamiliar women.

While every woman is different, many like light and then hard pressure of a tongue against their clit and often only a bit of sucking and pressure from the lips when their own the edge of orgasm. Sergeant Cooper did not prove particularly challenging to get off, she’d probably already been very close from touching me. She came without a sound, although she did pull my hair very painfully.

After she pulled up her pants, she took out a few tissues from some pocket or other and cleaned my face, almost tenderly. She did the same for the rest of me before helping me back into my clothes. She even sat me back in the chair she had just vacated.

Then she went back to her own chair, set the tablet on the table and resumed tapping at it as if nothing had happened.

“You will be released shortly. However, due to your record you will remain under close scrutiny. You must report to Station Forty-Two to meet with your corrections officer weekly. The details have been sent to your government email.”

I nodded, still feeling slightly numb with relief.

She tapped the table loudly enough to get my attention. “That officer will be me. I trust we have an understanding?”

Something between despair and resignation took root in my heart. “Yes.”

“If you fail to appear or cease to be compliant, you will be sent to a re-education camp.”

I nodded.

“Good, then I will see you next Tuesday at 4pm sharp.” She rose, tablet in hand. Before departing she crossed back to me. I can as something of a cold shock when she leaned down to kiss me, of all she had done to me that day, that somehow felt the cruelest.

“Be good little rebel. You’re too pretty to be wasted on one of those terrible places.”

Then she turned and left. Soon enough, another person in a uniform came to lead me out of the building and back onto the street. I didn’t really believe I was free until I’d walked nearly a mile back from that strange warehouse/detention center.

My feet eventually gave out and I sat down on the sidewalk and cried for a bit. The city was still in such chaos no one took any note. I wish I could say that that was when I decided to truly join the resistance. It wasn’t, I was too exhausted and tired to really think about anything but making it home then.

In months and years that followed, chances to fight back did come and I seized every one of them. That, however, is a story for another time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah is brought in for questioning again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally meant this story to be a one off, since I don't think it can really work as a series. I got an idea for a second chapter a couple days ago and couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to go ahead and write it. Enjoy.

She  made no secret of what she was doing to me. That became abundantly clear the fifth time she fucked me in her office. She had me over her desk, her fingers buried deep inside of me, when the door to her office banged open.

The young woman carrying a pile of papers froze, barely managing to gasp out. “Sergeant Cooper?” 

“What?” She paused her movements to glare at the door.

“I’ve got that report you wanted.” 

“I’m busy. Come back later. Honestly did no one ever teach you to knock?” 

The young officer fled. 

Then Sergeant Cooper went back to doing exactly what she had been doing before. It occurred to me later that she may have deliberately left the door unlocked, either as a way to further humiliate me or perhaps some sort of powerplay with the other officer. 

I knew then that any vague hope I might have had of exposing her abuses to her superiors would fall on deaf ears. The right to rape suspected rebels was apparently considered a perk of the job. 

It was not her cruelties but her strange and sometimes utterly bizarre kindnesses that surprised me. I wasn’t sure what to do when one tuesday several months in, as I was tugging my clothes back on, she handed me several ration cards.

“Here.”

I stared at them blankly. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Buy food, you don’t look like you’ve been eating properly. 

I hadn’t actually had a meat or sugar card in my hands in over a year. Wanting the damn things just made it all so much worse. It took everything I had not to throw them back in her face. “You’re already blackmailing me. You don’t need to give me things as if I’m your mistress.”

“Are you really stupid enough to refuse ration tickets?” Her habitual frown deepened and I saw I had displeased her. I couldn’t afford to do that. 

I pocketed the tickets. “No.” 

I gave the ration cards Sergeant Cooper had give me to my sister. I should have known that she wouldn’t just take them without wondering how I’d gotten them. I’d never been a very good liar and eventually she got the truth out of me. She was angry on my behalf and then scared for me. I ended up holding her as she cried because I was her little sister and she had absolutely no way to protect me. In the end she still took the ration cards. She had two children to feed.

The next week Sergeant Cooper gave me more ration cards and a bit of folded paper. “I’ve had you taken off the watch list. You will no longer need to come here but I still expect to see you once a week. This is my address. Come on Thursdays at seven.” 

She must have seen the shadow of hesitation in my eyes. “You’ll come or I can just as easily see you listed as non compliant and shipped off. Your choice.”

By then I had known enough people who had disappeared to those camps that I knew to be afraid. 

“I’ll come.” 

Her apartment was across the city and in a government owned building. I felt as if I were going to my own execution but I still went. I naively supposed that there wasn’t much worse she could do to me there than in her office. 

She was not wearing her uniform when she opened the door and for an instantly I barely recognized her as she stood there in a simple white shirt and grey slacks. She looked for an instant like an ordinary woman, not the woman I so deeply hated and feared.

“Come in.” 

The entire place had an almost military precision to it. Everything was in its place in the small austere apartment, from the single kitchen table with its two chairs to generic landscape prints on the walls. It didn’t really seem like the sort of place that someone actually lived in. That suited me, I didn’t want my tormenter to seem human. It is one thing to be hurt by someone almost faceless, another to know that it is done by another being with a soul. 

“Do you want a drink?” 

The request surprised me. She’d never before asked me if I wanted anything. 

“Alright.” 

She poured us both a glass of whiskey from an unmarked bottle in the kitchen. I was prepared to taste bitter rot gut when I raised it to my lips but it was pleasant and smooth. 

She saw my expression and smiled very faint. “It’s government issue not blackmarket.” 

Somehow that didn’t surprise me. I finished my glass standing, not really knowing what else to do. If we had been in her office, she would have already shoved me against something by then. I supposed she didn’t want me to spill the whiskey. 

“Bedroom,” she said simply as she took the empty glass from my hand. Soon enough she had me on my hands and knees, a strap on dildo buried deep inside of me. She was certainly no gentler when she took me in her own bed, although she did take more time about it and involve more toys. 

 

I never meant to be arrested again, fear had dug it’s claws into me too deeply. I was still a professor though, well an assistant one anyway. My students never gave up. More than a few of them were involved in an underground newspaper. They had originally asked me to help and I’d refused, even tried to talk them out of it. They called me a coward and I had no answer to that. 

I never helped with the paper but I knew about it and that was enough for the secret police to kick down my apartment door in the dead of night. To this day I don’t know which of my students gave them my name or what was done to them to make them surrender it. 

They bound my hands, gagged me, put a bag over my head and dragged me out into the night wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. I was thrown into the back of a van with others. I could see nothing but I could hear the sound of a woman crying through a gag and whenever the van turned a corner I fell against someone sitting on either side of me. 

Eventually I was dragged out of the van and thrown down on what felt like a cold concrete floor. Judging from the sounds of whimpering there were others there. A heavy metal door slammed. With my hands bound behind me, the best I could manage for myself was to eventually sit up with my back against the cold concrete wall. I had no way to get the sack off my head.

Through the night the guards came and took people. They didn’t bring them back. It must have been near dawn when they came for me. Strong uncaring hands lifted me up and dragged me from the cell. 

I could have walked but my captors didn’t seem to want to give me the chance to fight. I was sloved down in a chair and the bag yanked off my head. The light was blinding. I heard a man’s voice say. 

“Was this the one you were looking for?”

Sergeant Cooper’s voice answered. “Yes. I will consider it as a personal favor if you will allow me to handle her processing and case from here.”

As bizzare as it was, I felt a brief flicker of hope. Maybe she had come to save me. It was an absurd thought and yet…

I blinked against the light and found Cooper speaking to an older man, both wore the dark uniforms of the secret police.

The man glanced towards me. “She’s a pretty thing, looks angry enough to bite though.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with her before,” said Cooper, as if she were speaking of something utterly mundane. 

“Very well.” The man departed and Sergeant Cooper and I were left alone in a small windowless room. There was nothing in it it, save a table and two chairs. 

Cooper looked at me for a long time, her expression almost unreadable, neither anger nor disappointment. At last she set down a tablet on the table, shrugged off her coat and stood. She moved behind me to untie the knotted bit of cloth they had gagged me with. 

I spat it out coughing. 

Almost gently she wiped my face with a tissue she produced from her coat. “You’re a little fool,” she whispered in my ear. “I gave you a chance and you threw it away.”

I shivered and said nothing. 

Standing as she was, she turned my face to look at me closely. “It will be such a shame to send your pretty face to the re-education camps. You won’t be pretty when they are done with you, that is if you even survive.”

I closed my eyes as hope went cold in my chest. I was nothing to her, just a convenient plaything, she wouldn’t stick out her neck for. She was sending me to the camps.

She slapped me. “Look at me.”

I looked at her. I hated her so much in that moment. I was as good as dead and still she seemed to feel the need to torment me. “How sad for you, you’ll have to blackmail some other poor woman to fuck you when I’m gone. I’m sure it will take you all of five minutes to find someone.” 

She ran her thumb across the still stinging skin. “Such a proud creature,” she laughed softly. “You’re not even going to plead for you life?”

I held her gaze. “It’s already forfeit isn’t it?”

There was something very cold in her smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, not yet.” She leaned a bit closer. “If you beg me, I think I can get you out of this.”

Hope, cruel thing that it was, flittered about in my heart like a trapped bug in a jar. “How?”

Her smile broadened and showed her teeth. “You were named as part of that little seditious publication but you were only named by one man and that was under torture. They don’t have any other evidence of your involvement, although they have plenty on the others. She trailed a hand down my chest, pausing when she came to the soft cotton of my thin nightgown. 

“If I, as your former parole officer, say  I think that you are reformed and you were only named for past connections…” She shrugged her shoulders. “Well then with a few bribes and favors, I can get you released.” Her hand dipped beneath the cotton, catching a breast and pinching my nipple so hard I whimpered. “Especially if you’re a good girl and give me a few names.”

“No.” I tried to jerk away from her but only managed to nearly fall out of my chair. 

She caught me with her other hand, yanking me back up by the nightgown. “Do you want to die?”

“I won’t betray innocent people.”

“You’re students are the one’s who dragged you into this aren’t they? Why not get even?”

So much for hope. “No.”

She sighed, dropping me back into the chair. “Such a shame.”

If my hands had been free I would have covered my face and wept. She turned and began to walk towards the door. She paused there as if waiting. 

Something inside me broke. “Please.”

She didn’t turn. “Please what?”

“Don’t let them take me.”

“Give me something then.”

“I can’t.”

“Your students are already condemned.”

“You could be lying.”

She did turn back then, face almost tired. “I’m not. One woman is to be shot at dawn and six others are going to the re-education camps. Give me those names and I can protect you.”

I almost said that I did not know which ones those were but to say that would be to admit that I knew there were more people involved in the paper. I didn’t actually know, not exactly but I had known that the students who had first approached me about the paper had been part of a much larger network. I didn’t even know if they had captured those students or different ones. I could not risk naming anyone who might be safe and free, even if it meant my own life.

She saw the truth in my eyes. I think in that moment she knew that it she pushed harder, she’s find a wall of glass. If she kept pushing me I would shatter and she would be left with nothing. 

“I’ll say you gave me those names,” she said, her tone final. 

“You can’t…” I began but she had a hand over my mouth before I could say more. 

“I can and I will,” she snapped. “You will do what I tell you, you stupid girl. Nothing you can now do will save your friends but you can still save yourself.” 

I didn’t even get the chance to actively betray my own students. She’d say I did on my behalf. 

I said nothing, just closed my eyes in acceptance. She tilted me face up. 

“Will you be a good little rebel?”

I hated her and I feared her. I also didn’t want to die. I felt a piece of my soul crumble, but at least the rest of me remained. I said simply. “Yes.”

She smiled that cold smile of hers. It shouldn’t have shocked me so much when she kissed me. She’d done it often enough before. Somehow in that moment though, it felt like a whole new sort of violation, a new part of me she was taking.

 “Good, it would be a shame to lose a woman as delectable as you.”

I shivered in spite of myself. 

She reached behind me and unlocked the cuffs on my hands, she brought them around to the front and then re-cuffed them. I didn’t understand why she had done that until she told me, “Lean against the table. I still need to search you before the interrogation is done.” 

I supposed I should have been grateful that she’d given me the ability to protect my face from the table with my arms and hands, instead of just shoving me over it with my hands behind me. The utter absurdity of the whole thing was almost too much for me. 

“Seriously?” I doubted it was even worth pointing out that I couldn’t be concealing anything under that night gown. I was entirely certain that if she could lie about what I’d said, she could just as easily lie about whether she searched me or not, which meant that she was just doing it because she wanted to. She got off on asserting power over the unwilling. 

“You testing me already?” She said with a slight rise of her eyebrow. 

Weariness washed over me and I did as she said, standing and resting my arms on the table. 

She took her time, drawing her hands down my body, feeling me through the thin fabric, cupping breasts and butt. When she got low enough she paused to tug up the hem of my nightgown. “I should make you wear something like this again.”

“You got a fetish for worn out white cotton?” 

“For anything that makes you look vulnerable.” She whistled when the nightgown got high enough. “No underwear huh?”

“I was dragged from my bed in the middle of the night.” Defiance had crept back into my voice. 

She reached between my legs to cup my mons from behind and slowly drew her fingers down, drawing them across my clit and then through my labia to the entrance of my cut. 

She chuckled softly, “For all your protests, your body is already slick for me.” She shoved two fingers into me without any more preamble. She didn’t make any pretense of searching me then, just fucked me deep and hard with her fingers.

I wanted to go cold, to be silent, to do anything but tremble beneath her. It was all I could do to stifle my sounds. A few moans still found their way out. I hated the very breath in her lungs but she knew how to touch me. She had taken me enough times to know exactly how to get what she wanted out of me. She knew just how to curl her fingers slightly inside of me every so many thrusts, hitting the spot at the front wall of my cunt always drove me crazy.

“Good girl,” she murmured as she drove her fingers into me, going from three to four, making me ache and whimper with the feeling of fullness. “Go one, show me how much you love to be taken like this. 

To my complete and utter shame I felt an orgasm clawing up throat. I let it take me, slumping against the table and covering my mouth to stay silent. I thought she would be done then, instead she nudged me. 

“Get on your hands and knees.”

I turned and sunk down to sit on my heels, reaching for her belt. 

She caught my hands. “I didn’t say kneel. How much clearer, do I have to be? Should I have told you to get on your hands and knees so I can take you like the bitch in heat you are?” 

I flushed. The very thought of someone coming in and seeing me like that was almost too much. All the same, I did as she said, confused what she intended to do. I didn’t think she had any sort of toy with her. Did she just want to finger fuck me like that?

That was what she did for a minute and then she paused and withdrew her fingers. I turned my head to see her tearing open a packet of lube with her teeth and spreading it over her hand, all the way down to the wrist. She’d rolled up her shirt sleeve. 

I shivered again. “Cooper…”

She gave me that smile of hers that wasn’t really a smile. “Don’t tell me that a woman of your passions and promiscuity hasn’t been fisted before.

“Please, not here. Can’t we do this at your apartment instead?” 

She wasn’t wrong about my level of experience. When I had been free to pursue my own pleasure, it had been something I had often asked of lovers but only ones I trusted. It was an incredibly intimate act and one that had to be done carefully or it could cause harm. The sheer idea of doing anything that vulnerable in such a terrifying place with someone I so hated was terrifying. It was not something she had done to me before. I didn’t even trust she knew how to do it safely. 

“Yes here,” she said as she began to fuck me again, going from three to four fingers, brushing her thumb against my clit when she drew back each thrust of her wrist.

“We haven’t…I can’t…not like this…please. I’m too tense, you’ll tear me.” I begged.

“So you have done it before then?” she said triumphantly.

“Have you?” I snarled, any attempt at begging forgotten.

“Trust me little rebel, you are in capable hands.” 

“I never trust you.”

“Then trust your own body and try to relax. This will happen whether you want it to or not.”

Fear flickered in my heart and my body tensed on the four fingers that were already inside of me. 

She spanked my ass with her free hand. “Don’t be churlish.”

It was not a word I had ever expected to hear from a secret police officer. The spank had its effect though, causing me to gasp. She pressed that same hand down on my shoulders, actually pushing me down to my elbows. It was a better position for what we were about to do but a humiliating one. 

I couldn’t see what she was doing but I felt her draw her fingers from me. When she began to press into my cunt again I knew that she had folded her thumb into her palm. I was still tense and she ran into resistance almost immediately. She kept pressing. 

I almost begged her to stop but I knew that would fall on deaf ears. She kept pressing and it kept hurting and I got more frantic. 

“Wait!”

She paused. 

“Let me get on my back, it will be easier.” The last thing I wanted was to look at her but what she was doing wasn’t working and I was scared she would tear me. For me the best angle for penetration with fisting had always been on my back. I’d done it on my hands and knees a few times but only after I’d been fisted on my back first. 

She stroked my side almost gently as she began to press again. “I’m afraid you haven’t earned the right to ask for that.”

I would have cursed her in that moment but I feared to anger her. 

She drew her nails sharply across my side and back, causing me to cry out in pain. The distraction was enough for her to shift her hand and finally press it into my body.

She did it too quickly and there was an intense flash of pain as the broadest part of her hand pushed into me. Being fisted hadn’t hurt like that since the first clusy time I had done it as a young woman with an equally inexperienced lover. I gasped and nearly went down from my elbows to my stomach. It was all too much, too fast. I felt stretched and exposed and utterly helpless.

“Sh, sh,” she murmured. She ran her fingers over the scratches she had just clawed into my skin. 

I knew I was trembling beneath her, my breath shallow.

“Touch you clit,” she whispered in my ear. 

“What?” 

“Do it or I’ll let another guard have a go at you before I take you from this place.” She slightly rocked her hand inside of me for emphasis. 

I made a low desperate sound. I did as she ordered through, balancing awkwardly and reaching beneath myself to find my clit and draw up wetness to it so that I could rub it. 

She must have known what she was doing because although she’d pushed into me roughly, she was careful in how she moved her hand inside of me. She rolled her hand gently at first, barely moving. She waited until my breath grew even my shallow, until I was fighting down my moans to begin to properly move her fist inside of me.

I wished that I could have hated everything she did to me. I couldn’t though, at lest my body didn’t, even if my mind did. The pain had faded as soon as she was inside of me, giving way quickly to an intense feeling of fullness and pleasure. Between my own fingers on my clit and steady rocking of her hand, I was soon on the edge of orgasm and then just as quickly over it. 

I clenched on her hand as I came as silently as I could. She laughed at that. “See you like this, you little rebel slut.”

I said nothing, although I felt tears at the edge of my eyes. 

She started fucking me again, this time harder. It became very, very hard to stay silent. She was becoming rough enough that an edge of pain returned. Any other woman I would have begged her to slow down, to be more gentle. With her, there was no point. I was powerless to do anything but be fucked and touch myself.

My second orgasm came on hard and I had to bite my lip not to scream. As soon as the tremors began to fade I fell nearly bonelessly to the floor. She eased her hand from me and then moved away. 

I began to shiver and quickly drew my nightgown back down, curling up on my side. I felt torn open and exposed. The most fucked up thing was that I suddenly, desperately wanted to be held, the way I always did after being fisted. If she had touched me then, I don’t know if I would have cursed her soul or leaned into the embrace out of sheer need for comfort. 

When I looked over at her, I saw that she was already standing, finishing cleaning her hand on a cloth. She shrugged her coat back on and lifted up the tablet from the table. She typed at it quickly. “There, you’ve given the names and I’ve cleared you of any serious involvement. You’ll only be recorded as a person of interest. Don’t fuck things up again though or even I won’t be able to save you.

I didn’t respond.

“Get up,” she said. 

I couldn’t seem to find the will to move.

She let out a short annoyed breath. “Or you can lie there for the first guard who comes along to fuck you, if you prefer. If you want to ever get out of this place, you had best come with me now.”

I stood, with my hands bound it was difficult. She didn’t help me. When I was fully standing, she grabbed me by my bound hands. She pulled me close, studying my face carefully. She used a clean part of the same cloth she’d used to clean her hands to wipe the tears from my face. I wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant as tenderness or cruelty. 

She kissed me with as much hunger as if she hadn’t just had me. “Come one, little rebel, I’ll see you safely home.” Then she unbound my hands.

I barely remember walking out of that place. She had a solid grip on my arm as we passed through dull grey halls and people in dark uniforms and polished boots who may as well have been faceless. 

At some point we came into a parking garage and she led me to a car. It was an unremarkable small black sedan that was unmistakably government issue. 

“You have a car?” No one outside of the secret police and members of the party had personal vehicles. I supposed that did explain how she had one. How she had managed to get the enough gas stamps to actually drive the thing was another mystery.

I sat numbly in the front passenger seat as she turned on the vehicle. “I hope you appreciate how much it cost me to come get you.”

I almost said “what” again but I stopped myself. 

She drove us out of the garage and after briefly speaking with a guard at the garage interance we were out into a much larger compound. We stopped again at a final checkpoint and then the car passed out onto a dark road. 

Cooper continued as if she had never paused. “Two gas stamps at least, we’re far outside the city.”

That did explain the darkness that seemed almost to cloak the world around us. Very dimly I could see the outline of old factories and smoke stacks. I guessed that we were in the old industrial park north of the city.  

“I’ll repay you.” I wanted to owe her nothing, absolutely nothing. 

She glanced at my briefly and then returned her attention to the road. “How? You’re not even issued gas stamps and I doubt you have the money to buy them on the black market.”

I didn’t know what to say. 

“The gas stamps are the least of it anyway, I had to call in a lot of favors. A few guards even had the gall to demand a bribe from me, a fellow officer. It wasn’t cheap to get you out of there.” She went silent, waiting expectantly.

“Thank you.” I said numbly, guessing that it was what she wanted me to say. 

 “You’re going to have to do better than that.” She couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice. We were playing her game and she was winning.“If you expect to properly show your gratitude.”

The woman I had been only a few months before would have told her exactly where she could shove her gratitude. I wasn’t that woman anymore. It wasn’t so much that the fight had been beaten out of me, I’d just learned to realize when the effort was futile. “What do you want?”

“You’ll see.”

I was bone tired by the time she parked the car. I hoped she would leave me there but instead she took my arm and began to lead me up a set of stairs. It wasn’t until we’d gone up several landings that I realized it wasn’t my apartment building. 

It wasn’t until she had opened the door and turned to usher me in that I hesitated. 

“This isn’t my home.

She smiled, that cold pleased smile of hers. “No, it’s mine. I’m not done with you yet tonight.” Then she grabbed my wrist and yanked me into her apartment. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, let me know.


End file.
